


Itch

by PUNIFA



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PUNIFA/pseuds/PUNIFA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to church and has a stare-off with a statue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Itch

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into supernatural fic!

When Dean was in fourth grade a classmate - pretty little wisp of a thing called Macy with the most intriguingly curled hair - asked him along to a youth group meeting. He didn’t really know how to tell her that the last time he’d been in a church it was to pinch a rosary (Sam went through a brief phase where he wouldn’t sleep without one clutched in his hands, and somehow an hour of poking around the hotel room had failed to procure one), and so he agreed, and on that next Sunday he tucked Sammy up tight and secure in the bedroom, rosary draped around his neck and shotgun leaned against the bed frame. 

He’d let himself get suckered into the pre-meeting service but he arrived late and everyone had their heads bowed, sorted into neat little rows among the pews. He leaned small and almost lost against the doorway, ducked out of view of the sermon-leading priest. The closest that Dean had ever come to praying had involved a stunted Latin lesson from his father with a string of beads dangling over a bucket of tap water. He kept his head up and his eyes open, peering around at the vaulted ceilings and the carved angels perched throughout the building. There was one across from him at an angle, wings spread and feathered in stone instead of sleeping against its back like on the others, whose blank eyes seemed to stare at him. He stared back and scratched at the growing itch on his shoulder.

After a time someone coughed and Dean startled out of his staring contest to find everyone’s heads turned towards him. He scuffed his feet, tilted his head with a grin, and plunked next to Macy.

It was fun - the group meeting - if a bit uncomfortable when one of the leaders chewed out an awkwardly placed reminder that they weren’t there just to grow closer to each other, but to a god that Dean was pretty sure didn’t exist. That aside, he almost felt like a normal kid, playing board games and chowing down on potato chips and home made cookies.

Dean passed the statue again on his way out, getting a better look this time - and it was a lot rougher than he thought. The wings were chipped, the artistry of the face seemed scarred, but the eyes were still smooth and blank as milk, staring down at him.

He itched his shoulder on his way out the giant double doors.

 


End file.
